


VOX NIHIL

by niconicoNecromancer



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Isolation, Multi, Original Character(s), This Is About, mother yelling, not always happy, original male and female characters - Freeform, visualizations of anxiety, will add tags as I go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-05-13 06:42:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niconicoNecromancer/pseuds/niconicoNecromancer
Summary: The voice of nothing. This is a story with a series of one shots based on the visualization of anxiety. Similar to palaces from persona5 or various dæmon aus where anxiety is visually different for everyone and only seen by the individual despite that.





	1. Static

VOX NIHILI. The voice of nothing. This is a story written about anxiety by someone who overvisualizes. This is a multi chapter work which doesn’t promise that one story will continue to the next but I can make more for one character. Most of these stories will be written from ideas created by me while I struggle to combat my own feels or the feelings of others. story length and topic probably will vary as well as the visualizations of the anxiety worlds made. Think of anxiety like a dæmon au or a palace like in persona 5. We all have it. It’s there. We all have different forms and sizes and intensities but that doesn’t make it any less valid. Anxiety is inevitably a part of human life and shouldn’t be as daunting as it is. If you relate to or like a story, id love to know and if you wanna share how you would view your anxiety please feel free to share. i know, realistically, not all stories will end happily and that’s unfair sometimes. But all stories have to begin and end somewhere. Not all good stories end happily. We begin with the first story, Aerin’s story. 

 

————

 

Aerin is just a normal kid. He does art, he likes music, he cooks sometimes, and he’s got problems. He’s overweight, socially awkward, internalizes too much, and fakes being happy for others sake. He stays awake at night to spin a lottery wheel of happiness. One night, he loses. The loss doesn’t seem too hard, just stuck hearing static surrounding him. As he lay in bed, he listens to soothing videos to try and calm the noise in his head. Static. 

The next morning, he sees it. A cloud. A fuzzy looking cloud, yes, but fuzzy in the sense of television and sound. Static. The volume isn’t too much, so he decides to continue with his day: Get out of bed, go shower, get food, talk with friends, do house chores, etc. This routine goes on for hours. Dinner comes and goes and, with it, the static becomes louder. 

Mother has come home.

His heart clenches, the static becomes louder. She comments, he answers respectfully. She raises in volume, he quiets down. The cloud grows in volume and size. She yells, he stays silent. She leaves, he lingers. There’s another cloud, now, making things louder, yet sounding like nothing at all. He returns to his room, she stays in hers. It’s quiet in the house, yet so defeating loud in Aerin’s head. Even if he grabs his sketchbook to vent his feelings, his mind is so loud and nothing that he can’t even begin to think of the smallest flower or face. Time has left him, it is nearing midnight. He sets his art supplies away and turns off his lights. His phone buzzes with a message. His friends. The static quiets down. He feels numb. Was he crying? He can’t tell anymore. He’s so tired. His friends are funny, he laughs. It’s feels too loud. The static becomes louder. As he curls up around his phone screen and his mind forces him to shut down for the night to sleep, the static lingers. 

————

He wakes up and sees it. Static. Clouds and clouds of static plaguing his vision. He lifts his phone for the time. Messages from his friends after he passed out. The static quiets down. He smiles. Maybe today the static will be quieter. There’s always hope that clouds can go away. But somehow, acknowledging the source of the static makes it louder. His smile goes away as he gets out of bed for his morning routine. The static doesn’t stay quiet for long. But it also doesn’t stay loud for too long either.


	2. Lee’s Disappearing Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee is an idol in a girl group who internalized her own insecurities in her own unique visualization. Maybe you’ve felt like her. (This is my own visualization of insecurities written into a story here’s part two)

Lee was a part of a big group. They sang, danced, posed, and finer everything together. It was hard and it was more fun than Lee could ever ask for! She was different from the other members, and that was ok. Lee knew her fellow members enjoyed her there just as much as she enjoyed being there.

Of course, being in an idol group didn’t mean she was loved by all. Yes, Lee had some fans she even made close friendships with that she saw almost at every performance. It was amazing to see such commitment and even if they missed she sent them little gifts to get well if they’re sick. She loved her fans even if they were just a few close friends now! 

But before. 

Before, Lee had no one. Lee would be with her group and see their lead girl get numerous fans to come up to her and want her attention. Lee didn’t particularly want 100% of the attention, but she didn’t like how she felt before. Different, isolated, invisible. Lee wasn’t trying to beg for attention, she just wished she seemed more visible. Wanted in the group by the others. Before now, she never felt like the other group members even wanted her around unless to fill numbers. 

One day, talking with the choreographer seemed impossible. One of the others cut in when Lee had a question, as if to erase her hand from reaching out to get attention. Lee held it in, not to complain and be seen as a bratty idol. Another day, Lee did the dance perfectly and yet she got mistaken for being the worst. Her legs felt numb, hands no longer there, heart pounding in her chest, and yet, it could get worse. A promo release for their new album came out and she was cut off. Her eyes felt hot before they didn’t really feel there at all. She was practically scraps of an unwanted drawing. Going into the studio the next day felt harder than ever to find her feet and make it to the rehearsal. To use her arms as if they were there and not who knows where. To use her eyes to remember her marks as if they weren’t just gone. As if she herself wasn’t invisible to the rest of the world. As if she, herself, was truly wanted in a group full of better people than herself. The way home seemed easier. Better, even. To leave when she’s not wanted seemed like the best. 

« How come Lee was cut from the video? » she heard the lead girl say. She tensed in her corner, almost inaudible pants from trying so hard to be visible at all the only noise she could muster. 

« Yeah! Lee was the one who helped us get the moves right on time! Where was she in the promo? » another girl spoke up. 

Her hands felt numb. To begin with, she could feel her hands. The group...wanted her there? She was shocked, really. It may have taken a while, but slowly her quieter fans emerged in comments and on social media. She felt wanted around in the world. She felt visible even if she wasn’t even there. She felt better. She still has her moments of invisibility, where something small makes her feel not worth being there, but then she takes a deep breath and remembers those who can see her. Who do want her there. It make take more time than seemed reasonable to her, but she is visible. She’s there. She is wanted.


	3. The flower on the wall of Jeremiah’s life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s like almost 1am and I needed to write down some bad times before I thought too hard about them. I know these stories are short but it’s hard to get the energy for long winded visualizations of your own insecurities and anxieties without messing up the whole thing

Jeremiah seemed normal. Happy when things got rough, sad when others got sad, angry at smalls things like everyone else, and just trying his best in the world. Jeremiah was average height, plain brown hair and eyes, no freckles, average build, and average interests. He had friends, yes, mostly online. Group chats upon group chats of interesting characters in his life that made him mostly happy to associate with! He enjoyed his circles of friends and associates he could at least tolerate for a moment or two. 

But it’s not always average for Jeremiah. Jeremiah feels pain just like everyone. But the way Jeremiah sees it, he doesn’t feel the pain. When things start becoming rough alone, Jeremiah feels as if he slips away from his own body. He watches himself sit up in bad and pick out an outfit good enough for the day and get ready for the day and talk with others and do things. He observed himself talk with that friend and laugh with that guy and do that game or make that art. His body does that. But at night, when he finally returns to his own and feels less numb about his day, he feels pain. Pain because he doesn’t truly feel like he experienced the moment his friend felt happy or those two got together or that guy feeling good about himself. He just feels absent from his own life. His body was there and he saw it himself but he was there to experience these wonderful things. Jeremiah doesn’t feel good enough. Jeremiah feels like he doesn’t always deserve the friends that he has. 

Jeremiah wakes up the next morning, eyes crusty from the tears in the late hours and head pounding from the rest of his overthinking. Jeremiah has a bad day and feels guilty for bringing his friends down with him. Jeremiah goes to bed again, only to feel further from himself than when he isn’t even in his body. Jeremiah wakes and decides he shouldn’t stay that way. But even Jeremiah knows this will happen again. Maybe not now or tomorrow or the next day after that. But it will happen. And Jeremiah will never feel prepared enough for that overwhelming emotion when he returns from watching the party that is his life from the wall where he talks to no one.


End file.
